


A Little Bit of Your Love

by Luxes



Series: Noblemen [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Porn with a little bit of Plot, Quadrant Vacillation, Tentabulges, Troll Anatomy, i'll draw up a reference for that anatomy maybe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 15:17:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4630146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luxes/pseuds/Luxes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's at the end of a particularly shitty day in the Empire (so many complaints, so little fucks to give) that he leads you to his quarters, and the two of you are at each others throats the moment the door closes. You hardly even have the decency to make it to the couch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Bit of Your Love

Your name is Sollux Captor. 13 sweeps old, you are Nobleman of Her Royal Heiress, matesprit by night, trophy husband by day. You are also Nobleman of His Royal Highness, kismesis by night, bodyguard and charismatic escort by day, but who really even gives a shit about what you even _do_ for that guy, you are practically glued to his side anyway. You spend infinitely more time with Eridan Ampora than you do your matesprit, Feferi Peixes, only because she's too busy ruling a planet of trolls and making sure her people are treated equally. Respectable, you suppose; better than the last queen you had, whom she culled in order to take her rightful place on the throne.

She promoted you to Gold Mage in her Imperial Army, and you are _required_ to remain in the castle at all times to play quadrant-sitting with two of Alternia's most famous and fearsome aquatic trolls. When their moirailship goes into chaos, you have the responsibility of fetching Threshecustioner Karkat Vantas to auspisticize them on the days that the voices are too demanding for you to pull them apart. It's all kinds of fucked sideways, but you suppose it has to be this way on the basis that the 4 of you grew up together. It's not like you don't have outlets to air this shit out, though.

Your moirail, Aradia Megido, Handmaiden to The Heiress (not to be taken lightly, she is a ruthless bodyguard who will not hesitate to decapitate a nook sniffer who comes too close to FF), takes more than enough time out of her day to let you talk her ears off about the whole thing.

And when you're not talking with your moirail, you're basically fucking your kismesis. 

It's at the end of a particularly shitty day in the Empire (so many complaints, so little fucks to give) that Eridan leads you to his quarters, and the two of you are at each others throats the moment the door closes. You hardly even have the decency to make it to the couch, shoving each other against the back of the door.

You know his hate and the way his emotions run pitch black, tangling him up in a web with a spot reserved just for his spoiled, royal blooded flesh. On days like this you goad him on, spinning threads and luring him towards it with words dripping in venom, a bitter aftertaste in its wake, until you catch him, strangling his body in your clutches right where you want him.

And oh, how he returns the feelings so mutually. He drowns you in ways that are nearly terrifying and you could get off on just the muffled laughs he makes when he grabs you by the ankles and pulls you into the dark depths of the ocean that is his deepest, most caliginous hatred.

The insults come and go, a competition to see who gets the last line – who wins – your special kind of foreplay that involves too much talking and not enough snogging.

He always kisses you first, and you smirk against his lips each time, pressing hard against him and practically grinding teeth. The scarf you'd taken a liking to as a teen has long since been replaced by a more mature accessory; a tie, with the same gaudy blue stripes on it as his horrid old scarf. But you like this too, though, tugging it and pulling it until he's gasping to breathe, suffocating the gills on his neck. You relish the look on his face, that defiant sea dweller pride, fins pressed back against his head and lip curled in a scowl. His shark-like fangs are bared and you greet him with your oversized incisors, snarling.

“How we doin' this, Sol? Am I gonna get to see some a' that putrid mustard blood a' yours tonight or are you just showin' off?” He quips, grinning at you. You could punch this son of a bitch in his perfect nose.

“Don't act like you don't fucking come out of your pathetic sheathe at the mere sight of my canines, ED,” your hands tighten on his tie and you push him against the wall. “You can't stand it.” You smirk, psionics sparking out of the sides of your eyes. He harks a laugh at you, lifting a foot and pressing it against your inner thigh, just below your groin. It stings and churns your stomach, making you shudder.

“You're right. It's downright repulsive, those crooked shit teeth a' yours,” his hands fly forward and grab your shoulders, and the two of you are grappling to the floor next. He's on top of you quickly, clutching one of you shoulders in one hand and pressing a knee over your other arm to pin you down on to the ground. You put up a half-decent fight, and he can tell you're more complacent tonight than usual. “You that desperate for an achin' nook, Captor?” He asks, trailing a claw down your jawline with his free hand.

“Maybe I'm getting bored of your routine.” You remark, narrowing your eyes smugly at him. “Why don't you try and _wow_ me? You're the high blood douche nozzle, you must get embarrassed about having my piss blood bulges in your chute every time we fuck.” You raise and eyebrow at him, and his fins flare out, fanning against the sides of his face in a show of dominance. He's getting excited and you can feel your pants becoming tight. You undo the tie off his neck, tossing it to the side and sliding your hands around his gills, feeling them bristle against the skin of your finger tips. He lets out a gasp before bowing his head and kissing your neck, tasting it with his tongue and pressing his fangs against your muscle. He bites, just hard enough to draw blood, and you moan, sliding your hands down his body and passed his jeans to grab his ass.

“Gettin' handsy, you sleaze.” He comments, his hands going under your shirt and dragging his claws down your sides. You groan and arch into him.

“Waiting for you to hurry the fuck up, shitstick.” You practically giggle at how it makes him grumble in detest, and he curses you, a hand grabbing one of your horns as he resumes biting your neck, grinding his hips against yours to start up some friction.

He doesn't normally touch your horns. The only time you two do is when you're wrestling or using them as handlebars for other lewd and obnoxious reasons. He's rubbing the base of your horn and it makes you squirm, nipping on your neck and trailing fingers down your naval, dipping under the waistband of your pants. Something stings in your chest and your kismesis releases your skin after a long bite, slowly, _softly_ licking the wound clean of blood as if he's treating it, and you moan.

Something about this has become way too intimate for your liking.

Eridan kisses below your jaw and something in the back of your throat begins to purr. 

 

He stops. 

 

“Sol, what the fuck.” Eridan pulls away from you, retracting his hand from your horns, looking appalled. Your cheeks flush and he scoots back, letting you sit up and glaring at you, waiting for you to explain yourself. You wrap a hand around your throat and give it a small rub, willing the purr to go away as you steady your breathing.

“What the hell are you getting mad at _me_ about? Rubbing my fucking horns and kissing my neck. Are you trying to fuck with me?” You accuse him, refusing to take all of the blame in this.

“Pardon? I'm doin' you like fuckin' normal, you _told me_ to do somethin' different! Don't start tryin' to mix red into this shit, Sollux Captor. I know you got a thing for duality crap but I don't swing that way, you got it? I _hate you_.” He jabs a finger into your chest and you slap it away, gnawing your teeth together.

“Oh, believe me, I want nothing more to do with you than to rip your fucking tongue out and fuck you in your own nook with it. It's only black from me.” Your eyes spark in challenge, he is so fucking insufferable that it drives you beyond your spades and quadrants to the point where you genuinely don't know why the fuck you pail this piece of shit.

The bastard opens his mouth and presents his tongue to you, a pale lavender, and you get a faint smell of his breath that has hints of honey from swapping spit with you. He leans forward, as if meeting your challenge with his offer, daring you to do it. “You're a sick fucker, Ampora.” You yank him forward and run your split tongue along the top of his and he shivers. “Why not get a taste of your own fucking medicine, you victim blaming garbage dump.” Your hands go to his horns and before he can protest, you're rubbing the base of them, mouth covering his in a deep kiss. You twist his head to the side and push him down onto his back, straddling his hips. The sea dweller grabs the back of your shirt, smacking you and trying to pull you off, muffling a curse. Your thumbs press carefully into the base of his horns where they meet his scalp and he writhes beneath you. You release his mouth and wander down his neck with your lips, delivering butterfly kisses along his gills that are so gentle it makes you sick to your stomach. Your gut bubbles at the way he moans and gasps in response.

You pull back to get a look at his face and you sort of regret it because it's completely different than the determined, smug high blood you're used to meeting with a vicious gaze. He's flushed to the tips of his fins and they lay drooping, flat and submissive along his jaw. He can't keep his eyes open and his brow is furrowed while he tries to mumble out halfhearted insults. “Sol… Stop.” He says weakly and damn, you don't really know if you want to. Your chest flutters and you swear, you might _actually_ be into this red tomfoolery.

“ED.” You say to get his attention, easing up on the horn rubbing.

“No.” He replies back before you can ask your question, cracking his eyes open to glare at you. “Absolutely not. Fuck you.”

“But it was so _hot_.” You whine, and he _whimpers_ as if he _knows_ but it's wrong, so wrong, flipping between black and red is like quadrant suicide and you two definitely do not pity each other. You'd never be able to live like this; too confusing – too _personal_. “Shit. You looked so good, I didn't expect that. I thought it was going to humiliate you.” You drag a hand down your face.

“Yeah, well, plan fuckin' backfired, dipshit.” His pupils are wide and dilated, and he blinks sluggishly, the blacks slowly reducing themselves to their smaller, slitted size. He tickles his gills with his fingers, trying to relax himself and come down from whatever spell he's been struck with. He lets his fins unfold and twitch tentatively. He realizes you're watching him closely and frowns, nudging you with his knee. “Hey, jackass, my eyes are up here. You can stop eye fuckin' my amphibious delicacies in your halfassed pity fest.” 

You sigh, looking away from his more interesting features. “I'm so incredibly flaccid because of this, it's fucking shameful.” You mutter out and can feel the frustrated growl he lets out.

“Tell me about it. I can't even turn this disappointment I have into enough hate to get me goin' again.” The troll scratches behind his fin, staring at the ceiling, his lips perked. 

You coyly tickle his stomach with your finger tips and he smacks them away, glaring at you. “Oh, come on.” You complain and he looks like he literally wants to rip your head off your shoulders and shove it up your wastechute. “Why not? You liked it. It's not like it has to be red, let's just take some moves from it. They've gotta be doing something right, dude.”

“I'm not your quadrant vacillatin' slut, you sludge slurpin' fuckface. An' I got no interests in experimentin' with it, neither.” He states without being the slightest insincere. “'Sides, can't say I'm too keen on you cheatin' on your respective matesprit by shootin' flushed daggers at me. How dare you take Fef from me an' then fuck up you an' I with this scarlet wrought.” 

Ugh. He has a point. “Fuck...” Excitement fills you up and you're feeling giddy. “She doesn't need to know anything, though. I'm not cheating, I just want to… make things a bit more kinky.” You can't believe what's coming out of your mouth right now. “It'll be our filthy little secret.” You grin and lean down over him, red and blue electricity dancing happily above your head. His eyes go wide at your suggestion and he puts a finger over your lips before you can come any closer.

“FUCK no. I'm already on thin ice as it is with her, you blasted ingrate. We just started gettin' back to pale with each other. Your ass must be real jealous of the shit comin' outta your seed flap, Captor.” His fins twitch twice despite himself and you stare at them, making sure he knows you saw. “This would do me an' her in, for sure. Even if it was just pretend to spice shit up.”

“You're tempted by it, you prick, don't act like you're so above me,” your hands rest on his hips. “The thought of keeping this a secret from your moirail and going behind her back turns you the fuck on. You hate what we have and it makes your bulge fucking sick with material.” You spark happily again, watching the light blush creep up on Eridan's cheeks. He swallows hard and you let your psionics tickle his thighs. “Me and FF don't really do anything anymore, you know. She's too busy with being _Her Royal Heiress_ and all. Who has time for me except a lonely Violet Prince, paid barely half a thought by his peers?” You lean towards him again and he keeps his finger on your lips, but doesn't try to push you away. “Who will give our Noble Gold Mage the proper attention he's been denied of for so long?” You feel so sly, playing up the part of this little prompt you've initiated, trying to persuade the other troll into complying and going along. Who ever said you were too old to roleplay?

“Sol...” He says, hesitantly, lips parted and just an inch away from yours. You gently grab his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers and pinning it to the floor – more importantly, out of the way.

“I know you're fucking good for it. I've seen your love, and I want it. I want _both_. I am a greedy bastard, ED.” You use your free hand to hold his neck, threatening to squeeze but not before you delicately play with the slits of his gills. He tenses under you, gasping ever so slightly. “Show me it.” You demand, watching his fins fall into submissiveness again. You loathe him so, but you love when he crumbles under you, falling hard off his high horse and under a low blood such as yourself. A troll could go mad with this kind of power. And Feferi… God, what would Feferi think? You love her, undoubtedly, but you really have been deprived. You'd become accustomed to sweet touches on your horns and freezing kisses on your eyelids. You miss them. And Eridan, he can give you them. You know he can, because you've seen him fucking do it to Karkat. You'd be full of hoofbeast crap if you said it didn't rustle your jimmies fucktons when you found out, because they had a fling that lasted barely half a perigee and you downright despised it.

You make him flinch and grind against you with a cascading motion of you psionics, caressing the wriggler scars on his sides with your bare hands. His breaths are shaky each time you touch him, body tensing and expecting your typical, more aggressive motions, but relaxing when you remain tender.

His expression is placid, so vulnerable and delicious, you just want to eat him up. You are careful when you bite his neck in a space between his gills. If you were a Rainbow Drinker you would have him here as he is and it would be all the sweeter. Instead you work your way up to his cold mouth, nipping his bottom lip to draw purple blood before licking it up. You unbutton his shirt, pulling it off of him and tossing it out of the way. He slowly does the same to yours, having to work a bit harder because you've got 2 sets on your blazer. 

Eventually the two of you are shirtless and you press your chest against his, hissing. He's always so cold, but you're always hot so you suppose it's a fair trade. His cool fingers tangle themselves in your hair, lightly touching your ears, and your blood pusher skips a beat. You stand up, pulling him with you and dragging him over to the couch. Once you're seated you yank him down until he's sitting on your lap, straddling your hips, and you begin working on him, hands on his waist and kissing down his chest and abdomen. The gills between his ribs frill and you hear them suck in air, the membrane beneath glinting in the light. He never lets you touch him like this. Exploring him slowly, palming his globes through his pants and watching his head turn away, almost bashfully. He's hating it; you almost laugh, but manage to hold it in. Playing red with your kismesis is dirty, anyone would look you up and down like you had two heads if they knew – tell you that you have a few screws loose upstairs. He grinds against you, moaning softly, and you can feel your pants dampening already with lubrication from your bulges.

Eridan is quick in undoing his belt and getting his pants off, working on yours next. You shimmy them down and he sits himself back down on your lap. His bulge is slick with violet fluid, hard and ready. He doesn't need to ask or look at you by now, taking your erection in his hand with his own, gently squeezing them together as he strokes, rocking against you. Usually at this point you'd be all fangs and claws, with Eridans hands pulling your hair and your mouth on his gills, denying him air, but this time you go slow. Easy. Regarding him with a fondness that's a bit more than necessary. He twitches when your hands rub his thighs and looks down at you from above his glasses, the lens partially foggy. He looks confused – nervous, even – and his eyes hold an intimacy in them. You lean up and kiss the side of his mouth, lifting his hips so you can position your bulge under his nook. Unlike the rest of his body, this part of him is warm. You can feel the heat of him and he bites his bottom lip, lowering himself down onto you. It's tight at first, so you don't go in all the way, massaging his thighs and ass until he whimpers and fits the rest of your dick inside of him. “Shit, that's _wet_.” You comment snidely out of habit and he pinches you in the stomach.

“Sh-Shut it, Captor.” He stutters out, mewling when you push further into him. “W-Wait, wait wait-” He says, hands on your shoulders and leaning back so he can look at the two of you together, then up at your face. “I don't… I don't gotta say _I love you_ , do I?” He asks, and it's so fucking genuine it hurts. You almost laugh.

“Oh, God, no. No, ED. Fuck. You're gonna totally ruin my boner if you say something like that.” He pouts and you emphasize your meaning by bucking your hips. He nearly sequels.

“I was just checkin', God, you're bringin' fuckin' red shenanigans into the respiteblock when we're the complete opposite a' that. I didn't know if I had to... _you know!_ ” He implicates the words, not wanting to say it again. “Its just weird, alright? Feels like you're messin' with my emotions an' shit.” He slumps his head, shrinking in embarrassment.

You sigh and lean forward so you can nip his shoulder. “I hate you. You don't have to say shit like that while we're roleplaying unless you're comfortable.” You say, and he eases, leaning into you. “So do me a solid here and ride it, mmkay? Make your pussy useful for something other than to pass the time jerking it to your own voice.” You waggle your eyebrows and he swats you.

“Sol, if I'm gonna be gettin' myself off, you can sleep well knowin' that it's to thoughts a' you falling horns first down a flight a' stairs.” He says while he rolls his eyes. 

“That's what I like to hear.” You buck your hips and he presses against you, hands gripping your shoulders. You make him sit back, letting him use your shoulders to hold himself up, so you have a nice view of his body as you begin a rhythm, thrusting in and out of his nook. He pants quietly, gills shutting tight, and rolls his hips to match your pace each time you push into him. He moans softly, legs twitching around yours and you lean into the cushions behind you, getting at a better angle so that you aren't hurting your ass the other way. You lower a hand to grab his erection, stroking it slowly and running your thumb over the tip, genetic material oozing over your fingers and palm. 

You love how wet he gets when you're having sex; something about it just seems so kinky in a way that nobody else has tickled your fancy before. It makes you feel good, knowing you're the one that makes him like this; makes him unfold and lower his guard, opening himself up for you and letting you see all of him, down to his bare naked core. You enjoy nothing more than seeing his smug face and reducing him to a writhing pile of breathless whimpers and moans.

“Aah!” His breath hitches and you can feel a rumbling start up in the back of your throat again when he lifts his hands and begins playing with your horns, his finger squeezing in between the two sets so he can gently massage the bases of them. You almost let out a sound yourself but manage to hold it in, purring softly instead. His cheeks noticeably darken when you do and you begin to quicken your movements, aiming now for the spot inside of him that’ll get him worked up.

It doesn't take long to find thanks to your position and he yelps in pleasure when your bulge rubs against his most sensitive area, nook squeezing you in reciprocation. “Sollux...” He groans between breaths and you feel proud of yourself, chest warming and your stomach doing a flip. You want him to keep calling your name, so you slow your thrusts, pressing against that sensitive tissue continuously while you stroke his dick. "Sollux!" You swear you could come just from the heated sounds that he makes when he's in the throes of pleasure. His hands clutch your horns clumsily as you fuck his sweet spot and he tries to be mindful of his claws, nook tightening around you with each thrust. “I-I... I'm gonna…!” He writhes against you and you release his member, grabbing his hips and speeding up your movements, pushing inside of him deeply. It elicits probably the sexiest cry you've ever heard come out of his damn mouth as he's coming, nook clenching around your bulge tightly as you continue thrusting into it.

You can barely move your hips when he comes because his nook always traps you inside with how sensitive it gets. You don't mind because it always feels fucking wild and fantastic. It's his turn to torture you now with flushed bullshit, releasing your horns and leaning back on his palms, spreading his legs somewhat while he straddles you. You watch him carefully, curious, and he lets the faintest hint of a smirk pull at the corners of his lips, staring right into your eyes. You swallow hard and he lets one hand snake down to grab his bulge, pumping it while he presses hard against you and grinds, rolling his hips against yours and swiveling, pussy squeezing and rubbing your dick in _so many_ right spots that it has you seeing stars. “ _Oh fuck_ , ED.” You groan, curling your toes and grabbing onto his hips for dear life.

He simply moans and pumps you tightly inside of him, and his bulge finally shrinks and recedes back into the clit since he's already come. It gives you a perfect view of your dick consumed and flushed against his sheathe and you can't stand it. You want to touch him everywhere and devour him in mouthfuls, but you can't take your eyes off of what's currently being so graciously presented to you right in your lap. He lifts himself up, walls strained and pulling you gently, and you nearly cry because it feels too good. His free hand slides up your stomach to your chest, resting there, fingers pressed hard against your thin muscles and his eyes glisten when he feels you twitch, gold fluid leaking from his entrance mixed with violet. “I'm done for...” You sob in warning and he smiles smugly.

“Mm, you like that, Sol?” He asks in a sultry voice that has you nodding pathetically, unable to respond verbally without a mess of whimpers tumbling out of your mouth. “Tell me that you hate me.” He demands, licking his lips. “An' then tell me you love me.”

“I hate you,” you pant, your abdomen feeling hot like fire and your body beginning to tense. You open your mouth to speak again but all that comes out is a strangled cry and a purr as you feel yourself getting close. Eridan cups your face, yanking you forward and kissing you hard while he continues to tease and pleasure you, tongue darting out to glide over your lips. 

“Tell me you love me, Sollux Captor.” He demands more passionately this time and the way it sounds and feels just grabs your blood pusher and tugs in excitement.

“I-I love you.” You reply obediently, totally under his control, and he chuckles into your kiss and he's so God damn hot when he gets like this, fins flapping quietly in joy.

“Now be a good boy an' come in me.” He doesn't need to tell you twice because you're over the edge, hitting your climax and coming inside of him. He makes a small sound, feeling your muscle tense and twitch against his walls, and you bury your head into his chest while you moan his name pitifully.

 

The two of you sit there for a while, hugging each other and catching your breath, before finally Eridan peels himself off of you with a low groan. He retreats to the ablutionblock and you slowly rise to your feet, wobbling hazily before following him inside of it at the sound of running water. He's rinsing himself off in the shower and beckons you to join. “C'mon, we're both filthy by now an' it's gonna be a nightmare gettin' those stains outta the couch. Might as well freshen up.” You can't disagree with that logic so you step inside and allow him to wash you down. You always get tired after sex because of your genetics; high bloods were built differently, always became more awake and energetic after sex, whereas low bloods needed to rest. You suppose it's a good thing because he's always so eager to clean up afterward, but you're far too lazy to be bothered by it. So Eridan just does it for you.

He ushers you to bend over so you can run your head under the stream of water while he washes your hair, delicately scrubbing his claws into your scalp in a way that gets you purring as he rinses the shampoo out. He doesn't stop and tickles the base of your horns and behind your ears, pampering you for whatever reason before he leans down and kisses the back of your neck. Your cheeks heat up and you stand up straight, staring at him through your wet bangs. His cheeks have a faint, purple blush on them and you feel something tingle in your diaphragm. 

You don't really know why, but you lean forward and capture his lips in a kiss, soft and light, and he returns it placidly.

After a well deserved nap in some royal sopor (it's thicker than yours is and you _know_ he only had it placed here because you tend to sleep at his place more often than in your own block), you clean up for the third time that day and pull on your spare set of clothes that you keep at Eridan's respiteblock. Once you are presentable and back to your Nobleman-status-self, you wander out of the room and catch Eridan in The Handmaiden's quarters.

He's sitting across from your moirail while she happily paints his toenails black, and it is quite honestly the most ridiculous sight you have seen in a long time because nobody is even going to _see_ his toes and he doesn't go out swimming so it's not for anything other than AA probably bugging him about it and ED jumping at the chance to get a free pedicure. “Oh, hey Sol!” He beams as he notices you walk in, giving you a wave. You wave back and sit next to Aradia, letting your shoulders bump comfortably, mostly in hopes of messing her up and making her smear paint all over Eridan's feet. It doesn't work and she stopped mid-stroke in anticipation of your plan anyway.

“Eridan was just confiding in me about a few things! Stuff about quadrants. You wouldn't be interested, so don't butt in!” She cheers, and you're not sure how you feel about it. What the fuck could they possibly have to talk about?

“ED, you didn't tell her what we did, did you?” You ask suspiciously and he does that thing where he looks up at the ceiling and perks his lips innocently like he has no idea what you're talking about when he actually DOES.

“Well, I might've asked Ara how she felt about quadrant roleplayin', but I never told her what you an' me did last night. I mean, now she might know since you so tactlessly decided to insert yourself an' our personal matters into the conversation.” He rebuts and you slap a hand over your face.

Aradia's grin widens and she looks at you, then Eridan, then back at you. ”Whaaaat!? Oh, my God, Sollux Captor did you and Eridan flip while doing the nasty? That's hilarious! How was it? Was it awesome? Tell me everything!” She giggles and flicks her wrist, finishing up Eridan's toes and blowing on the polish to dry it.

“No.” You immediately reply, burying your face in your hands.

“It was hot.” Eridan says and Aradia _cackles_ beside you.

“I am leaving. Goodbye. Never speak to me again, I'm going to sit in a corner and wait for my body to die while ED spills all of our secrets to everyone and their fucking lusi.” She loops an arm around yours, forcing you to stay while Eridan has a whale of a time telling your moirail that you dared to utter “I hate you” and “I love you” to him in the same session.

 

You don't love this asshole. You utterly, positively, wholeheartedly _hate_ Eridan fucking Ampora.

 

And yet, when you catch him in the halls in the morning - hidden away from prying eyes - you cup his face, tickling those fins of his and enjoying the bristle you receive from them on your fingers when you press your lips softly against his, no fangs and no bite.


End file.
